


lookin' for hot love

by wildcard_47



Series: from partridges to pear trees [1]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 05:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16968537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildcard_47/pseuds/wildcard_47
Summary: Written for Day 1 of Carnivale, for the prompt "a special disguise." AKA: James finds his old drag kit.





	lookin' for hot love

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the same modern AU 'verse as "when you need me" but is basically a standalone for hot husbands sex.

Pushing open the front door, Francis blinked in surprise as the thumping bass of Gloria Estefan and James’s exaggerated falsetto greeted him from somewhere near their bedroom. And then he smiled. Idiot was probably putting up the laundry, or putting off writing, whichever was easiest.

Amused, deciding he had a few minutes to spare before making lunch and heading back to the shop, Francis hung up his coat and went to go see what James was up to, just as a murmured Spanish chorus morphed into a familiar disco bass line.

When he got to the doorway, he froze in shock as he took in the dazzling figure currently reflected in the mirror.

Standing in front of their bureau, resplendent in a mini leopard-print dress that clung to his every muscle and showcased most of his bare chest, James was currently zipping up a blood-red leather boot, fingers trailing up the leather all the way past his knees and stopping at mid-thigh. He wore a sharp blackish bob of a wig, which was slipping up over his hairline just slightly, just enough to showcase his widow’s peak. Not enough to ruin the illusion – or stop James from continuing his command karaoke performance, as he shimmied that raised leg down to the ground and rolled his hips in a dancer's fluid movement.

_ Lookin' for a lover who needs another, don't want another night on my own... _

Straightening to his full height – and dear sweet fucking Christ, the length of those  _ legs _ in those  _ boots _ – James consulted his altered reflection with no small amount of pride, still lip-synching in a dramatic way, before catching Francis’s eye in the mirror. 

And then he winked.

“Found my old drag kit,” was all he said as he turned, tucking long dark hair behind one ear. “John wanted karaoke for Henry’s – birthday – ”

Francis was already stumbling forward to kiss him.

“Oh, god,” gasped James, as Francis yanked him forward, got him slightly off-balance in his stilettos, so his arms went around Francis’s shoulders. “Francis.”

“So pretty.” Opening his mouth against James’s neck, nipping and laving up toward that sensitive spot beneath his right ear, Francis gripped the hem of James’s silk dress in one hand, balled it up in his fingers. “Nice surprise.”

James tried to give him a smart reply. “Not a surprise if you already – ” 

Silencing him with a brief, deep kiss, Francis guided his lover backwards to the bed, rubbing one hand over the tops of James’s boots, and then dipping his fingers between James’s thighs, trailing upward. When his hand touched the apex of James’s legs, just below his balls, he stopped, eyes widening, and growled out a surprised noise.

“Are you wearing – ?”

“Yeah,” James’s voice got breathy, high-pitched. “Yeah.”

Flexing his knuckles against the sudden whisper of lace and satin at James’s groin, Francis pushed the leopard-print dress up lean muscled hips with the other hand, growling again when he saw James’s very hard cock straining taut against absurdly lacy knickers.

“So fucking hot, love.” Francis rubbed the flat of his hand against James’s jutting cock as they climbed onto the bed; James arched and groaned aloud. “Beautiful.”

Scrabbling backwards so he could lay against the pillows, James moaned out an appreciative noise as Francis shucked off both trousers and pants, plucked the bottle of lube from their nightstand, and drizzled a generous amount into one palm. Without pausing, he slid that hand up past James’s balls to circle his cock, gripping it snugly before slowly stroking up, the texture of lace rasping gently against the head of James’s cock.

“Oh, that's good.” James’s eyes fluttered closed.  Within minutes, he was panting with excitement, gasping with laughter as Francis withdrew his hand.  “Good Christ. 'M sweating like mad. You can't just – come and have me, already.”

Grinning, Francis kicked his discarded trousers further down the bed, adjusted his kneeling stance, and positioned his cock at James’s entrance, pulling those lacy knickers taut to one side and lining himself up with that tight ring of muscle before pushing in slowly.

James bit his lip, bucked up against the sudden friction. His eyes rolled back in his head.

“All right, love?” Keeping his voice low and teasing, Francis rolled shallow circles with his hips at first, enjoying the tremor that ran through James’s thighs, thumbing over the seam where cherry-red leather met soft, supple skin.

“Nnh,” sighed James. 

Cocking an eyebrow in a roguish way, Francis skated one hand down James’s taut stomach before he buried himself to the hilt. 

Arching back into the pillow, James let out a stuttering breath.

“There,” whispered Francis, and took James’s cock in one hand again, sliding the embroidered lace over and underneath the tip of his head as he began to stroke him in time with his thrusts. “How’s that?”

Flushed with excitement, breathless again, James could barely speak. “Mmph.”

“Bloody gorgeous in lace, you know.”

This prompted a visceral shudder; James immediately twitched up to full hardness; cock sticking straight out from his body like an arrow before it was constrained by his briefs again.

“There, darling.” Francis increased the pace of his thrusts as James’s hand curled around the back of his forearm; he kept hitting the spot that made James’s mouth fall open in delight. “Right there, yeah?”

“Please, god.” Awkwardly, James wrapped one leg around Francis’s middle, the other splayed out wide; Francis grabbed his left calf, fingers digging into soft red leather. “Harder.”

“Saw you on stage tonight. Couldn't stop looking. Had to have you.”

“Give me that cock, love.” James braced one hand on Francis’s t-shirt clad chest, yanking at his shirt so he could palm bare stomach and chest. “Fuck me, love.”

“So sexy and pretty – all for me.”

“Always for you. Only you.” James’s fingers tightened against Francis’s arms; his body now shaking. “Christ, ‘m close.”

“Come on, then.” Francis’s hips slammed into his, now, fast and unrelenting. “So damn ready, aren’t you?”

“Please, love,” James whimpered.

“Need that cock so much – ”

“ _ Goddamn _ , Francis – ”

“Hot long prick throbbing like mad.”

“Oh – oh –  _ fuck, I can’t stop _ – ”

Francis growled out a sharp, feral noise as James shuddered and spurted into his slick hand ; after several seconds, Francis released that gorgeous berry-red cock, braced his weight on his arms and gripped the sheets in two fists, thrusting up hard several more times before he finally let go, straining against James’s debauched form as he spent inside him.

They collapsed in a messy tangle of arms and legs for several minutes afterward.

Once he could finally speak again, laughing, punch-drunk, James lifted his head from the pillows, pressed a chaste kiss into Francis’s temple, and sought out his hand.  “What – what’re you even doing home right now?”

“Hm? Oh, ah. Lunch, actually.” Francis let out a gust of a sigh as James wound their fingers together. “Jopson told me to eat real food, else he’d force-feed me more raw carrots from his stupid bento box.”

James just snorted, like an irritated horse, and kissed the spot behind Francis’s right ear. “I keep saying I’ll pack you a lunch.”

“You only pack salad.”

“Which is lunch. Even Alice eats one without complaining.”

“Well, she should do. They’re for children.” After a beat of consideration, Francis reached out and rubbed the side of James’s hip with one hand. “Or maybe lovely long boys with nice arses.”

“No, get off, you’ve ruint it.” James was laughing again as he pretended to push Francis away with one hand. “No cuddling now you've insulted my salads.”

“Come on!” Aggressively, Francis put his head down onto James’s shoulder, and wound both arms around his middle, so that James was stuck lying on his back. “Just for a bit.”

James pretended to roll his eyes, but relaxed back into the mattress, one hand coming up to tangle in the back of Francis’s hair. “Well, all right, fine. Cheeky.”

“Leave the boots on,” said Francis after another few seconds, which made James laugh again.


End file.
